


bumblebees and honey

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When a new boy moved in across the street, Sherlock was hardly excited. He didn't know that the boy who lived there would change his life forever.tw: mentions of abuse in future chapters
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. The Beginning

The new neighbours had just moved in. Of course Sherlock, being 6 years old and already somewhat of an introvert, was not interested in the slightest. But Mummy said that it would be good to introduce himself, and that she may buy him another book about science. So thats what he did. He crossed over the street into the huge driveway of the new neighbours house. He he could see a boy sitting outside the front of the house, drawing on the porch with chalk.

“Hello.” Sherlock said when he finally reached the boy.

The boy looked up at Sherlock, with a strange look. He looked tired.

“Hello. Who are you?” the boy replied.

“I’m Sherlock. I live on the other side of the road. Who are you?”

“I’m John. I live here.”

Mummy hadn’t mentioned there was a boy moving in too. Sherlock thought it would just be more boring adults. He was glad there was another boy like him near by.

“What are you drawing?”

“Bees. They’re my favourite thing to draw.”

Sherlock loved bees. This was a good sign.

“Can I draw too?”

“Sure.”

John handed Sherlock some chalk, and he sat down quietly. He started drawing bees too. Sherlock sometimes drew, and Mummy and Father said that they were good, but John’s were even better. He wondered what else John was good at. He looked like he was very smart, like he could do almost as well as Sherlock on school tests, maybe as good. He wondered if John was nice to everyone, and if everyone liked him. 

The kids in Sherlock’s school didn’t really care about him, and he could tell they were just annoyed at how good Sherlock was at tests. They weren’t mean, but he didn’t have any friends either. All the kids ignored him, unless someone needed help on some homework, or the answers to a question. John didn’t seem like the type of boy to use Sherlock for answers to a test. Maybe John would be Sherlock’s friend.

“I like your bees.” John said, filling the silence.

“Thanks. I like yours more though.”

“Thats rubbish. Yours are much better.”

“No they aren’t.”

“Yes they are. That’s what I think.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s ok.”

There was silence again, and all that could be heard was the scratching of the chalk on the porch and the background sounds of the countryside. The swaying of the trees, the birds singing, the occasional car passing by. 

Sherlock looked at the boy again. He had blonde hair, and it looked like honey in the sun, which was nice as Sherlock liked honey. He wondered if John knew how his hair looked in the sun. He had blue eyes, but not like other boys eyes. His eyes looked darker blue, different from Sherlock’s eyes which were usually light blue, although they sometimes change. He looked closer and could see his skin turning slightly purple around his eye.

“Why is there a bruise on your eye?”

“It was an accident.”

“Oh, ok.” Sherlock could tell he was lying, but he didn’t want to upset John, so he decided not to say anything. He could tell when people were lying, along with other things, like what they had for breakfast, and who someone had a crush on. He liked learning how to tell things about other people. He found it hard to understand people most of the time, so he liked being able to know them better. He didn’t really tell anyone about it though, he didn’t want it to become another trick he could do, like add long numbers and say the alphabet backwards. 

“I need to go home soon.” Sherlock said.

“Oh ok.” 

John looked sad, and Sherlock didn’t want to make him sad. He wondered if John would like to see his science books, and maybe read some of his bee books too. 

“Do you want to come over to my house?”

“Yes please.”

“Do you need to ask your parents?”“No it’s ok. They’ll be fine.”

“Ok.”

And off they went together, the beginning of their story.


	2. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys take a trip to the lake.

The July afternoon sun was making Sherlock restless. John finished rugby at 2, which seemed like an infuriatingly long time to wait. He got up from the sofa, where he had been lying, staring at the ceiling for the last hour, and collapsed onto the bouncy armchair next to the window. He had a perfect view to John’s house from there, which he would wait for the next however many minutes or hours for John to finish his stupid club.

Just about 5 minutes since he started waiting, he saw John walking up the street towards their houses. 

“Finally!” Sherlock shouted, rather loudly he realised.

“Finally what, dear?” His mum said to him whilst he rushed through the kitchen to go out the front door. Sherlock ignored her and ran out of the door. He turned out of his drive and started running towards John.

“John, thank God you’re back! I was about to pass out from the sheer boredom my mind had succumbed to!”

“Drama queen. I wasn’t even gone for an hour.”

“Whatever. Hurry up and get changed so we can go and have fun.”

“Alright bossy pants.”

They parted separate ways, John turning into his drive, and Sherlock going to sit on the bench outside of his house. It had been 4 years since John hd moved in across the street, but it felt like forever. They would see each other every day after school, and go running around the neighbourhood. Since he moved here, they had found loads of new exciting places in their village, including the lake, the hollow tree, the willows and the den. There was a path they always took that passed all of them on their way to the den, where they went every day. They had built the den about a year after John moved, when they found an abandoned shed on their adventures one day. It was a perfect place to sit, and they kept picnic blankets and towels in there if they had just swam in the lake.

“You ready?”  
He turned towards John, who had changed out of his rugby clothes now and was wearing shorts and a thin t-shirt. 

“Yep.” Sherlock replied.

They started walking towards the pathway they took, a comfortable silence only being interrupted by either of them pointing something out the other had missed, such as a cool bird feather on the road, or a peculiar sound. 

They reached the lake, the boys taking off their t-shirt’s so they were just in their swimming trunks, which they had put on before they left, and jumped into the lake. It wasn’t that deep, and it came up to about their waists. Well, John’s at least, for Sherlock, being slightly taller, it came up to the top of his thighs.

They paddled around for a bit, looking at the pebbles at the bottom to find the nicest looking ones, finding flat ones and seeing who could skim them on the water the furthest, splashed each other a bit, and laughed a lot. When they got out they grabbed they lay on the grass in the sun, waiting for themselves to dry. 

“I love summer.” 

Sherlock knew John loved summer, as he said this every time they sunbathed. It was somewhat of a ritual it seemed, so that the summer would carry on for as long as possible.

“It is really nice.”

“The sun is so warm. It’s like a big hug. I love hugs.”

“Here you go, then.”

Sherlock sat up and came over to hug John. He hugged back, and they lay together on the grass, being hugged by the sun, and each other.

“Can you move your head a bit, it hurts.”

“Ok.”

Sherlock moved his from the center of John’s chest, and looked at where it had been. There was a large purple bruise, that had faded a bit, but looked none the less painful. Sherlock knew what had happened. John told him where he got the bruises from, ever since they first went to the lake, and Sherlock had asked him why there were so many on his body.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Im still sorry.”

“Ok.”

They lay in silence together for a minute.

“John”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Did you find any cool rocks?”

“Yeah. There was a cool one that had been scratched a lot, so you could see different lines all over it.”

“That’s cool. I found a really perfect one, it was completely smooth, and almost a perfect sphere.”

“That’s cool.”

After a while of laying there, they realised that they were dry, after all the August heat in England was quite strong, and decided to walk back to the house. 

John and Sherlock sat in the field all day, catching butterflies and studying bees, and pretending that they were the kings of the world, until they were called in for tea, and they said their goodbyes.

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters coming regularly :)


End file.
